What to Expect When You're Not Expecting
by kelsuzanne
Summary: "This shouldn't have happened. I never wanted this to happen. But it did."  Katniss keeps a journal throughout her first pregnancy.
1. Entry I: Month 2

Katniss Mellark keeps a journal throughout her first pregnancy.

**A/N:** In this world, Katniss and Peeta are about 25 when the first baby comes along- unexpectedly. Per the suggestions of those who know her best, she puts pen to paper and records her experience. So, although the timeline is slightly AU, everything else should be canon compliant. Each "chapter" will be a new "journal entry", chronicled by month. This story started out as a writing exercise, and ended up growing into... well, you'll just have to read. Reviews and critiques welcome. Oh... and I don't own the Hunger Games. I am not that creative. 

**Month 2**

I'm terrified.

There's no other way to put it. This shouldn't have happened. I never wanted this to happen. But it did.

Peeta's ecstatic. He tries to hide it, tone it down and mask it with his concern for me, but I see it. I see the hesitant joy on his face when he eyes my belly, and I hear him whispering to it at night when he thinks I'm sleeping. Of course, this melts my resolve and I _hate_ it that he has that affect on me, because then I have to actually think about it- him, her. What all of this means and will mean.

And I am terrified.


	2. Entry II:  Month 3

**Month 3**

I feel fat. My clothes are starting to stretch to the point of discomfort, but I refuse to wear the new ones Peeta has ordered for me.

In a moment of weakness, I allowed him to take a photo of my distorted figure... and he's likely been painting me (and it, I'm sure), but I don't want to see anything. I'm not ready for that yet.

He doesn't push it. Like always, he is impossibly patient with me. He lets me have my moments of insanity, steadfast in his reassurance.

I'll never deserve him. These should be the happiest moments of his life, and I'm ruining them. I ruin a lot of things. How can I have the audacity to think that I won't ruin _it_ as well?


	3. Entry III: Month 3, Later

**Month 3 (Later)**

Peeta says I need to stop calling it "it." I suppose he's right.

Sooner or later I'm going to have to face reality and accept that the foreigner growing inside me is real.

A human.

A baby.


	4. Entry IV: Month 4

**Entry IV (Month 4)**

I don't like feeling so out of control. My feet swell and I vomit uncontrollably without warning. I have to pee every ten minutes. I cry when Haymitch's geese wander into our garden, when Peeta surprises me with breakfast in bed, when the shower's too cold, when I see the color blue... I can't help it.

Peeta thinks it's funny sometimes, the things that make me cry. He tries to stifle it, but I still catch the initial reactions- flickers of bewildered amusement. And that makes me cry harder. And then we end up having sex. That part I don't mind so much.


	5. Entry V: Month 4, Later

**Entry V (Month 4)**

The baby moves now. Inside me, it moves.

The first time I felt it I nearly gave Peeta a heart attack, what with the hysterics and desperate clutching of my round, bowling-ball of a stomach. Once he figured out what was happening, though, he was laughing and crying and laying his head against the bulge, pressing his face to it, showering it with kisses.

I still don't understand what it was that I felt in that moment. I think part of me really_ was_ overjoyed, at least to see him so happy. But it's swallowed up by a cold, unshakeable dread that settles around my heart.


	6. Entry VI:  Month 6

**Entry VI (Month 6)**

My stomach's so big I can't see my feet anymore. Haymitch won't let me forget it. Sometimes I forget about my growing width and I knock things over- a vase, the coat rack, sacks of flour... I can't seem to live that down either.

Peeta's been occupying himself with turning one of the spare bedrooms into a nursery. He's painting a lot, and I think he's even building a rocking chair. I'm not entirely sure because I'm not allowed to see anything yet; it's supposed to be a surprise. I don't complain.

The midwife says everything looks "excellent." Excellent. That's her favorite word, I think.

She also says I'm moving into the third and final stage of this pregnancy. I still can't decide how I feel about that


	7. Entry VII: Month 7

**Entry VII (Month 7)**

This baby is going to be the most-loved being to ever breathe life, because it will have Peeta for a father.

This baby will probably end up a spoiled-rotten diabetic because of him too, but there are worse fates.

He showed me the nursery today. It's beautiful, for lack of a better word. The murals he's painted on the walls are gender neutral, but for the first time I actually find myself wondering what the baby will be- a boy or a girl- and what he or she might look like.

I think I want it to look like Peeta.


	8. Entry VIII: Month 8

**A/N: **Oh, I am so thankful for all of the wonderful reviews this story has received. Really, I appreciate it so much. As a writer, feedback is kind of like crack to me ;) ; I'll try to respond privately to each of you as soon as I find time.

I know the chapters are short, but I'm trying to operate under a "less is more" mentality... is it working? :) Also, as is, this story only has ten chapters... but I've become kind of attached to this piece, so... we'll see.

**Entry VIII (Month 8)**

Peeta's always talked to it- the baby, I mean. He's had whole conversations with my stomach. He speaks in this gentle, high-pitched croon that I've rarely heard him use before.

I of course feel completely awkward when I even think about having an exchange with my own abdomen, but the other night, when my ribs were taking their standard beating, I realized I was doing it- rubbing and speaking in hushed tones. And then I was singing- this little lullaby I used to sing for Prim.

Both of us slept soundly after that.

Maybe I'm becoming more okay with this whole thing. Maybe


	9. Entry IX: Month 9

**Entry IX (Month 9)**

The midwife says it could be any day now.

I've had dreams about it happening, and most of them end in horrible bloody deaths for all three of us, but I try to not to think about that.

In other news, Peeta's hovering skills have been honed to perfection these past few weeks. It's endearing and I know he's worried, but I honestly think I can go to the bathroom by myself. Apart from that, he's surprisingly calm. I think it's because he knows I'm on-edge enough for the both of us.

When I think about the changes this little one is so swiftly bringing our way- all the potential dangers, uncertainties, and risks involved- I feel myself losing my grip (actually, "slipping into despair" is probably more accurate). But I've found that when I focus on this new life Peeta and I have created- the mere fact that we're even capable of producing _anything_ living after all that we've been through- I can manage.


	10. Entry X:  El Fin

**A/N:** I apologize for the unintentional hiatus on my part... life kind of got in the way. :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Any suggestions for a non-cheesy way to either continue this or build upon it are welcome. Anyway: Enjoy- for baby Mellark has arrived. ** :)  
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**Entry X (El Fin)**

Nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing.

I don't even know what to write.

She's tiny and dark and wrinkled.  
>She has my course brown hair, but her eyes belong to Peeta.<br>She's the embodiment of hope, like a phoenix rising from the ashes.  
>She's the most wonderful, perfect thing.<p>

I can't stop looking at her. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I was hopelessly gone. Peeta, too, of course- but I never doubted his love. He was wrapped around each tiny finger before she was even here.

(He jokes that motherhood has made a sap out of me, which is kind of true, even though I'll never admit it.)

Her name is Dahlia. We agreed months ago that the whole flower-name thing was highly overdone, but when it came down to it, we couldn't resist. It was just so fitting. And so... here we are.

This is going to be hard. I might be bad at it. But she'll be loved; she'll be fiercely protected. And we'll be together- Peeta, Dahlia, and me. Of these things I am absolutely certain.

And for right now, that is enough.


End file.
